A/N: Well.

How do I put this nicely?

Forget it. I'm not holding back anymore.

I hobbled home from work this evening-might well need a cane now-to find a slew of vitriol waiting in my inbox in regards to my latest story. What in blazes is going on here?

Apparently people don't like it when I write Naruko; because A Most Unlikely Lancer got bloody panned. Bombarded even. What was meant to be a joke got me outright harassed and spat upon by a number of people. So consider this story an answer to that. Not unique enough? Not emotional enough? Not invested in him? Can't do better, you say?

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

I've said time and time again that I don't consider entries in the "A Most Unlikely" series to be new stories in the traditional sense. Its all one interconnected universe, pieces of a greater whole. I've all but stopped writing new stories on other fronts. Game of thrones references are obvious, as you're about to see, for good sodding reason. It just goes to show how one terrible, awful, bad day can shape a person; even if it doesn't break them it still changes them forever. This story is going to be heavy, in more ways than one.

Oh, and I feel I should state that Saber!Naruto is the possibly the most singularly powerful Servant iteration of Naruto. He's an outright divine spirit. Which is all well and good, considering who he'll be going up against in this war. Clearly the quote below here hints where it all went wrong.

And aye, this Naruto has a beard. Its in Asuma's style.

Hope that helps alleviate any confusion.

See you guys and gals tonight~!

"Burn the bridge."

"But boss, our men are still up there-

"Idiot! I don't pay you to think. BURN IT DOWN! NOW!"

~a decision that created a legend.

A Most Unlikely Saber

I took the sword.

I picked up the blade.

I raised it high, and I brought it crashing down on a man's skull.

Zabuza's weapon, that hideous, bloodstained cleaver. Kubikiribōchō they called it, otherwise known as the decapitating carving knife. Seversword. The Head-Cleaver. A legendary weapon, larger than I was, and thrice as heavy. You'd have to be incredibly brave-or severely stupid-to try and swing a weapon like that at thirteen years. Yet I did. It cut through flesh and armor like paper. As if they weren't there. Sometimes I still hear their screams in my dreams. My nightmares. Perhaps the cleaver chose me. Perhaps not.

Perhaps it would've been content to rot in the ground with its old master.

I didn't let it; no, I suppose you could say that I couldn't. But what choice did I have?

The bridge was burning. Everything was on fire. Everything burned. Fog, flesh, stone. We had nowhere to run. They were all going to die if I didn't do something. It was my first mission-my first REAL mission-and instead we were confronted by a ramshackle mob of thugs. It should've been easy pickings. But we were exhausted, out of options and chakra. They'd hurt us, bled us. They were gone to finish us off. Half-blind, bleeding from my right eye, my face burnt, nearly gone mad with rage and nothing but that sword in sight. So I used the sword; and I killed them all.

My team never looked at me the same after that. Can't blame them.

I still remember that scorched grip searing my fingers, burning into my palm as I screamed. It took all my strength just to swing it at first, but swing it I did. Grew easier after a time. From that day on, my world changed forever. The damn thing was near impossible to swing at my size, even with chakra, but still, I held onto it, if only because I felt responsible for the blood it had shed. Eventually, I grew into the damn thing, became strong enough to swing it single-handed. Almost wish I hadn't.

By then I'd become known for it.

Sword demon some called me. I prefer Sword Saint.

Saints save people, or at least they try to. They try and try and try.

Demons...demons don't save anyone. They only burn. They rip and tear and destroy without mercy. What good is a demon? They destroy friend and foe alike and leave only ruin in their wake. I didn't want to be known as something-someone!-like that, so I endeavored to change that. I like to think it worked, for a time. Gods know it earned me enough names. Saber. Sword in the shadows. A bulwark between good and evil. Protector of the innocent. Defender of the weak.

Kinslayer.

Oathbreaker.

Man without honor.

But honor doesn't win battles now, does it, little bird? Men do. Swords do.

And ninja? Ha! We know next to nothing of honor. Swordsmen even less, I've found.

Sometimes, all you can trust is the sword in your hands. A blade may break, but it will never betray you. Some broke at times when I pushed too hard, but my first always repaired itself. A few drops of blood were a small price to pay for its loyalty. In return it helped me fight off my enemies. So many enemies. It stood strong when I cut the head off a snake. It didn't fail me when I avenged the death of my teacher. It even endured through the rise of an otherworldly goddess and her army. That blade helped me save the world.

Yet for all I've done, they still curse me.

Man without honor.

I'll admit to that one; honor is useless in a fight. Honor gets you killed quicker than a shiv in the back. Why pull your punches? Honor didn't kill that masked man. I did. I tricked him; caught him by surprise and cut him in half when he wasn't prepared. I still don't know who was behind that mask. Frankly, I don't care.

Oathbreaker.

Tell me, what oaths did I break? So many vows. They make you swear and swear. Protect the village. Obey your Kage. Defend the weak. Keep the peace. I tried to do all that and more. No. Its too much. No matter what you do you're forsaking one vow or the other. I did what I thought was right, and protected those I cared about. I didn't go out of my way to be cruel. If that makes me an oathbreaker than so be it. I wielded nine swords in my lifetime, and always in the name of my morals.

Kinslayer.

Am I such for killing someone close to me? Perhaps I am.

Fine.

Have it your way, Grail.

Lets raise a nonexistent glass to him, then!

What an Uchiha he was! Here's to Uchiha Sasuke, first of his name, the last of his clan, and to the sword I shoved in his back. My teammate. My rival. My enemy. He was my friend. He was family. I hated him. I loved him like the brother I'd never had. And now he's dead. All because he couldn't let go of a stupid grudge. He let it consume him, body and sou. His real brother died for him in vain, yet still I tried to save him. He could've taken my hand. We could've been a team again. Instead he stabbed me with a poisoned kunai. He'd become a danger to himself and the village. He couldn't be allowed to live.

He was nearly blind when I finally cut him down, did you know that?

Raving mad too. He ran when he realized he couldn't win. I still remember his last words.

"Burn them all." he hissed up at me as he choked on his own blood. "I'm going to burn...all...of...you."

Burn us in our homes, he said. Burn us in our beds until we were dead. You know...I don't think he expected to die. He probably through he was going to survive somehow, get new eyes and kill all of us in our sleep. He'd made it out or worse scrapes with help before after all. But not this time. I slit his throat to make sure that wouldn't happen. That's where Sakura found me. She judged me, of course. She never said anything to me after that, actually. Just looked at me with those sad, sad green eyes. Yes, I could see why people would name me kinslayer after that.

I wish he'd listened.

I wish it hadn't happened.

I wish things had been different.

I wish that bridge had never burned.

I wish I'd never picked up that damn cleaver.

I wish I never saw the world for what it truly was.

I wish I'd stayed that naive, foolish boy, without a care in the world.

I wish, just once in my life, to save someone who needs it. Someone who won't curse me for helping them. Is that so much to ask? I don't care what it costs me. You want an arm? You can have it. I'd give my other eye if I could. Let that be it. Let that be my redemption. Let me be summoned so I can make an end of things; let me be summoned before I finally go MAD here in the dark...

...please.

(...0o0o0...)

The worms writhed.

Sakura sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut as her magic circuits flared with white-hot intensity. Still the worms writhed. Both at her feet and within her body, pain searing up and down the length of her spine as she sat in the pit, her body bent double in another burst of frightful pain. She would not scream. She refused to scream, refused to give grandfather the satisfaction. If she cried out now he would not stop the ritual, he would only strike her, or worse, manipulate the worms to draw more power from her.

She was a Matou now, and she had endured worse than this. Much worse.

So she would stay silent in this, just to spite him.

Another bolt of agony jolted her back.

'I won't cry,' she chanted in a silent mantra, clutching her shoulders. 'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry...

She hadn't wanted any of this; not the war, nor the ritual, not any bit of the fighting that was to come. Hers was a gentle soul. She did not enjoy combat as most magi did. She just wanted to spend her remaining peaceful days with Senpai. Even if he didn't notice how she felt, she was happy just being around him. Yet Grandfather had been nigh on relentless, threatening that sole ray of sunshine until she finally complied. She'd thought this would be simple; summon a Servant, use that bloody book to pass them off to Shinji, and wash her hands of the matter.

She had not been prepared for the pain.

Every cell in her body shrieked at her. Every muscle clamped down as one. It made the worms writhe in agony, which in turn took ever more energy from her with each moment. She was going to die if this continued, but she had no way of stopping it. Whatever had responded had her reserves by the throat and throttled them with each passing moment. At the rate her energy was shriveling up someone had indeed answered-must've been absolutely monstrous to drain her this quickly. If this continued overlong, her magic circuits had no chance of sustaining the effort, much less her life. She didn't want to perish, but she could feel her life slipping away from her with every second that slithered by.

'Am I going to die here?'

All the while her "grandfather" hunched over his cane, sneering at her suffering.

"Don't fall apart on me now, girl." his raspy, guttural voice made Sakura grit her teeth. "It'd be such a shame after all this effort."

'Kill him.' something dark and ugly reared its head in Sakura's gentle heart as she raised her head to glare at him. 'I'm going to kill him someday. Maybe now, if I can help it.'

Zouken must've seen it too; because his once lazy posture turned stiff as a stone. He made no move to retreat, but he was most assuredly watching her now. Good. That small, dark part of her crooned like a lost lover in her ear, even as she tried to deny it. He should fear you. Once you're whole, you'll crush him like the worm he is. Let him have a taste, just a taste...

"Careful now, girl." her so-called guardian's voice rose in a rumbling rebuke. "Do you want me to throw you back in the pit again?"

She grit her teeth at him, even as her body convulsed. 'I'd rather die.'

As if sending that very thought, the pain stopped.

With a startling flash of light and laughter and sound-so much sound!-the strain on Sakura's circuits ceased. The shockwave certainly didn't. A harsh burst of red light surged from the summoning circle and cannoned into her mentor's chest to send him sprawling to the dirt in a plume of sundered stone and mangled masonry. Sakura could've laughed, but managed only a tiny gasp. Her circuits were white-hot, every breath rendered itself steam. Someone was laughing, and with an odd pang of relief, she realized it wasn't the old worm.

Why was she smiling?

"Now that's more like it!" a rough, drawling voice boomed from the smoke as it cleared, reverberating harshly against the walls, rippling with power. "Finally, a class I can settle into. Servant, Saber! I have responded to your summons, Master!" Zouken's pallid brow shot up as the smoke cleared to reveal the newcomer, but he was too busy pulling his aching body upright to protest.

Had she the breath to, Sakura would've wept.

Saber. Somehow she'd gone and pulled the strongest card.

Despite what some would view as an unparalleled victory, Sakura wanted to cry.

Grandfather would never let her be now; if she tried to foist this new Servant off on Shinji-and didn't a part of her cringe just thinking of him-she could never truly escape this war. She'd been naive to believe otherwise in any case. She'd proven herself capable of snaring one of the most powerful Servants for this war; though that hadn't been her intention at the time. On the contrary she'd hoped to summon a weakling, someone who might loose quickly and thereby remove her from the war.

Still, she could at least look at her Servant.

Grizzled but not old, he nevertheless radiated a rough sort of charm. A lone eye-patch concealed his right eye and an ugly scar behind it, but did nothing to hide the horrid burns marring that side of his face, nor his shaggy blond hair and whiskered cheeks, his jawline framed by a careworn beard. Yet the longer she gazed at him, the more she suspected that scraggly black piece of cloth wrapped about his head served some other purpose. One she couldn't quite grasp.

Eventually her gaze shifted to the rest of him, and what she found there only further served to confirm her suspicions that this was indeed a Saber. He looked like something of a feudal samurai with only minimal armor at that and she glimpsed lean, corded muscles beneath a black-orange cloak behind hakama pants that might've been trousers once upon a time.

Nine separate sheathes adorned his body at the strangest of places, long and short like. Who could possibly need that many blades? And why weas each sheathe empty?

Worse was the sword he carried.

More a cleaver than an actual blade, it dominated his broad back, yet he hefted it with ease. A single hand grasped its worn handle, idly tapping the blunted back of the blade against his shoulders with a steady clack-clack-clack of a sound as his bare feet shifted against the stone floor. A lone blue eye flitted about the catacombs-lingering briefly on Zouken-before turning back to her. There was no anger lurking there, only a quiet curiosity. That singular azure orb creased slightly, perhaps taking pity on her and the fading tremors that still wracked her body.

His lips pursed, and she glimpsed a strange, slim metal needle-or was it a reed?-clenched between his teeth before he spoke.

"You got a name, little bird? Or are you going to keep gawking all day?"

A slow heat rose to Sakura's cheeks.

Little bird.

Such a strange term; it drew a startled blink from the heir and a scoff from Zouken; thankfully the latter was even now basking in her success and didn't immediately speak. He only grinned that ghastly sneer of his as he struggled up on rickety legs. Sakura wasn't fool enough to fall for the act, even when he dared to interject himself on the new arrival.

"Her name is irrelevant, Servant." the words were a laughing rasp. "She is your Master and you will-

"Wasn't talking to you, old fart."

Saber never looked at him.

He didn't even turn.

He just moved.

Swung.

In a single graceful movement he unlimbered the massive sword from his shoulders and lobbed it at Zouken as one would a Frisbee. To his credit the old man jerked back with a flinch and managed to duck to avoid losing his head. Even then the great blade sheared some skin off his scalp as it slammed into the stone above his head. The old man jerked back in a flinch, that false smile slipping from his mouth like rancid pudding. Gone was the kindly act he perpetuated, in its place she glimpsed the wretched creature within, thin skin stretching over his skull as he snarled.

"You dare strike me?!" he hissed, rubbing at his savaged skull. "Know your place, Servant!"

That one eye pulsed-Sakura could think of no other word for it-and an invisible fist laid Zouken low once more. By contrast, the hideous creature masquerading itself as a human took the blow without flinching. Wrinkled shoulders shook, but did not shatter. Bent, but did not bow. He only loosed a rattling chuckle.

"You don't seem do understand the situation."

At that, Saber finally deigned to look him in the eye.

"I understand that if one more word comes pouring out your fool mouth, I'm going to kill you."

"Bah. Empty threats. It seems my beloved granddaughter was truly fortunate to summon you after all." heedless of his peril, Zouken cackled as the stoic Saber continued to glower at him. "You may be strong, but your emotions rule every fiber of your being. They make you weak-

That blazing blue eye drifted shut.

"One thousand cuts."

"What?"

Matou never saw the blade leave its sheathe until his host body collapsed into a pile of worms. Perhaps that was meant to kill him. Perhaps not. Regardless of the fact, it sent grandfather into an absolute rage. Sakura still did not wholly understand how a rotting pile of worms could convey human speech-frankly it disgusted her-but that tepid mass still managed to howl at them.

"Tch! Cheeky brat!" the pile roared, its words a screech! "This won't kill me!"

"No." Saber admitted freely. "But it'll humble you until I figure out what you are. Now hold still."

Drawing a second blade from the aether-this one wrapped in bandages-the blond raised an arm as if to hurl that one as well. Snarling, the wretched worm pile of worms slithered away into the darkness with a snarl. Saber didn't lower his arm until the hideous sound of their passing finally faded into the distance. It was enough to spur Sakura into speaking again. Anyone willing to so readily make an enemy of the old worm was well worth it in her regard. Still she hesitated, if only just a touch, because she knew there would be a reckoning for this. Zouken wasn't the sort to let a slight go unpunished. He'd try to hurt her with Shinji, or worse...

"I...you didn't have to do that." she murmured, almost to herself, wincing at what she knew would come.

Belatedly she realized her Servant was still waiting on a reply from her. This was not it.

"My name is Sakura." she managed haltingly. "Sakura Matou."

A spark of emotion flickered across his face.

"Sakura, you say?"

A small smile plucked at the corners of his mouth and with a rustle of cloth the blond returned his remaining blade to its resting sheathe between his shoulders. Wordlessly, he dropped to his haunches before her. At such close proximity the purple-haired girl nearly flinched, but he made no move to attack. Nor did he try to grab her face. That vague curiosity had become genuine interest now; joy tempered by a smirk that seemed almost familiar somehow. But that was absurd. She'd never seen this man before.

"I knew a Sakura once." he mused wistfully. "How ironic that I've been summoned by someone with the same name. Seems the Grail has a sense of humor."

His hand settled on her head in a gentle pat and incredibly, Sakura felt her tremors cease. No she realized, they didn't just cease, she felt...revitalized. As if someone had given her a week's worth of prana. The lingering haze that had clung to the corners of her vision for the better part of a week now. Baffled by this sudden surge of vitality, she balked up at him, but that careworn smile didn't fade. As his hand pulled away she swore she saw a mark of some sort etched into his palm. When she blinked it was gone. Surely she'd been imagining things.

"Well then, you can call me Naruto." the Servant declared. "Or Saber. Whichever you like. Seems a fair trade."

...so what now?" she spoke into the silence.

Saber seemed to consider that for a long moment, thumbing his chin. "Now, I'm not much for honor these days, but you called to me, and I answered. Suppose that should mean something."

Sakura didn't expect him to kneel.

Saber did just that, summoning that massive blade from before to his hand. Once more, he bore it down to the floor. But not to attack. Nor to defend. A gesture sank it into the stone, but his gaze never left hers. Even as the stained steel planted itself between them, still he knelt. Even as she climbed gingerly to her feet, he remained still as stone.

"You have my loyalty, for whatever its worth. I'll keep you safe." her Servant swore. "I promise."

Despite her best efforts, the Matou girl felt her lower lip tremble. No. No tears. She refused to cry anymore.

"Don't. You can't protect me." the words sounded dead, even to her own ears. "Don't try to save me, Saber. No one can."

His head snapped up, that lone eye blazed into her soul, and for a moment-just a moment-she believed that he could. His glare said it all; he'd go to hell and back for her. A stray smile danced across his scarred face, but he didn't budge from where he knelt. Despite the fear gripping her heart in an iron vice, Sakura almost giggled with incoherent fear. Was he trying to act like a knight? Swearing his fealty to her as if she were a lady of some sort? She was no such thing; she felt unworthy of such dedication when in truth part of her wanted nothing more than to throw everything away. What had she done to deserve loyalty like this?

She shouldn't be emotional. Yet something in his words-his smile-reminded her of Senpai. That only made it worse. Much worse.

"You can't." she repeated the words numbly, to him as much as herself. "Don't. I'm not worth it, I'm not-OW!"

Saber's hand descended in a ruthless chop against her hair, drawing a startled yelp from the girl.

It didn't so much sting as it did startle, but it served its purpose regardless.

"Why did you hit me?" she whined, rubbing at her forehead.

"Because you're spouting bullshit."

To her mild dismay, Saber scoffed at her and snatched up his blade. In a single fluid movement he stood, casting her in his shadow. Gods. He really was tall, wasn't he? Even on his knee a moment ago he'd easily dwarfed her but now...it was like looking at a giant. When a lone armored arm stretched out to her, fingers splayed, Sakura nearly flinched. Despite his earlier oath, that gruff smile had yet to waver. For a moment she glimpsed an odd hint of hope in that smirk, as though he'd just been reminded of something. Someone.

"Look at me, Master." Saber demanded suddenly.

Something in her cringed, cowering from the sudden strength of his voice. "I...don't want to."

Sakura first instinct was to refuse; thus she turned her head away and tried to slip backwards. Naruto would have none of it. A hand snaked under her chin quick as you please, gently but firmly wrenching her face back to his. Forcing her to look up at him in spite of her fear, in spite of her hesitation, in spite of all the self-loathing Zouken had ground into her. Saber's gaze-his very voice-burned all that away from a brief moment, leaving her emotions bare before his wild, blazing glare. Just a moment. A second. A splinter in time.

"LOOK AT ME!"

She complied. She had no choice. Even as his words rattled the stone underfoot. Even as he nearly deafened her. She was naked in the face of that gaze, helpless but to gaze into that lone blue orb. No, she realized with a start; it wasn't blue anymore. Or even red...but gold. Amber. That strange cross-shaped pupil saw right through her; it saw all her sins, all her degradation, everything Shinji and Zouken had ever done to her. Everything, even as she tried to hide.

Incredibly, it creased in a smile.

"Listen. I answered your summons because you wanted someone to help you." He gave her a light jolt of a shake for emphasis, just enough to jar her back to her senses. "Help me, you said. Save me, you said. That was your voice I heard. You called me. Now you listen here; I know that thing is preying on you. That person." his lips pursed as though he'd sucked on a lemon. "That...worm. I don't know how to kill it. Not yet. But I will. You are going to win this war. You are going to have your wish. And then you and I are going to have a talk. Understand?"

"I...

"Do you. Understand?"

Mute, she could only manage a timid nod as Saber released her and took a sharp step back. Sakura almost expected another outburst from him. Another shout, or somesuch. It never came. Instead all that burning anger and concern drained from his whiskered visage like a broken sieve. That rough hand descended again, gently-almost fondly-patting her head. A look of pained longing flashed across his face, but whatever emotions Saber felt were never voiced, not here, not in this crypt.

"Good." he beamed, mussing her hair. "I said I'd help you. And I will." His smile hurt her heart. "Even if it kills me."

Once more, Naruto offered her his hand.

"Take it, girl." He urged at her. "Let me help you."

Unbidden, Sakura's right hand twitched at her side. She shouldn't. She mustn't.

To be offered hope again after so long many years was more than simply surprising. It was painful. Like a sun thrust into a darkened room that had never seen the light of day. It was such a far cry from Senpai and his blissful, lovable ignorance of her situation; here was someone actually Sakura remembered the fate of the last person who'd tried to "help" her all too well. Time had done nothing to dull that memory and the wounds it had left on her heart. Uncle Kariya. He'd died right in front of her. Grandfather had fed him to the worms that night and laughed. That was the price for his defiance.

Surely Saber would meet such a fate, Servant or no. It didn't matter how strong he was. All who dared oppose Zouken or Shinji...disappeared, one way or another.

It was simply the way of things.

"You don't have to do anything else." Naruto's voice cut through the dark haze descending on her thoughts, sharper than any blade. "Jut take my hand."

Such thoughts were folly, but Sakura's trauma ran deep and instinct wasn't something so easily culled, no matter how much she might wish otherwise. Her body locked up, her hand balling into a fist even as she thought to raise it. She'd be a fool to trust her Servant; much less take his hand. Grandfather was eternal. Grandfather was absolute. Nothing could kill him. Not even a warrior of the Grail...or so she told herself.

And yet...and yet...!

For the first time in years, the voice of a little girl cried out deep in her heart, screaming out for someone-anyone!-to hear her desperate plea. To have someone actually offer her that salvation-one who had the strength to back it up!-was almost too much to bear. She thought of Senpai again; but despite her feelings toward them, despite the hope that they would one day be realized, that cold, quiet part of her reared its head. He can't help you, the voice hissed again. You know that. You love him, but you know he can't. She did. Shirou could never stand against Grandfather. It hurt her just to admit it, but there it was.

Tears swelled in her eyes. "I don't deserve it."

"Yes," that weathered face crinkled in a smile. "You do."

In the end, for better or worse, Sakura reluctantly took his hand.

There, in that pivotal moment, the poor girl's world gradually began to shift.

It was only one piece in the puzzle. A tiny fragment, a small part of the greater whole. Yet it changed her.

Some might say the world burned because of that gentle hand. That the events following could be traced back here, to this very moment. Some would argue otherwise. They would say that the world was saved because of that hand, that quiet hope looming in the dark. Perhaps it was the shadow that ravaged the world. Perhaps it was the grail itself. Perhaps it was the golden king. Tales would vary in the coming days, loud and numerous, a veritable storm of squawking cross on the wind. Who can say what end would come of this?

Regardless, Sakura would never be the same again.

A/N: Ho boy.

Had some real emotions writing this.

Sakura summoned Naruto as a Saber. None of that Dragon Blade malarkey. One with MULTIPLE swords. Sakura saw them. Did you?

As a clarification, Naruto doesn't rightly know what Zouken his, and the old worm hasn't spoken enough to draw his ire. He knows something is wrong with him-and likewise Sakura-but not what. At a stray glance our boy can't tell what's going on there. But once he does, once he finds a way to kill Zouken safely...ohohohoho...

Now one might well assume that our boy's personality seems to be a blend of Sandor Clegane and Jaime Lannister sprinkled with a touch of Zaraki Kenpachi, but that's intentional. He's still the same sunny boy we all know, he just doesn't like to show it as much. Would you after what he's been through? They say killing a god changes a man, but Naruto was already different long before that, wasn't he?

He warmed up to Sakura the moment she mentioned her name...and the moment he realized what was wrong with her.

Shirou will still get Artoria of course...but it ain't going to be her Saber form, clearly. This also all but takes Medusa out of the picture, which is a shame, but I already have a story focusing on her, so a second such tale seemed redundant. Clearly someone else is going to be summoning a Rider, but who, oh who...?

Now I'm sure many are wondering who has what in this war, so here's some clarification:

Sakura= Naruto (SABER)

Illya= ?

Shirou= Artoria (LANCER)

Bazett= ?

Rin= Emiya (ARCHER)

Zouken= ?

Souchiro= ?

Kirei= Gilgamesh (Previously the Archer of the last war)

There.

Four empty spots.

Vote on 'em if ye dare~!

Let it not be said that I don't listen to the fans.

As ever, this'll be gone in two days if people don't like it.

Gods know A Most Unlikely Lancer got me chewed the hell out for making Naruto a girl. I ain't doing that shit again. I'll be honest. I'm a little upset. I don't get paid to do this, and my writing time is all but reduced to a few hours a day. So when I have people calling me all sort of ghastly names...well. A man gets a bit angry. (EDIT) Thankfully I've had most of them taken down by now, but those words still linger and I admit, my enthusiasm is a bit...colder now.

Now back to the 'ol double shift, once again, with only an hour in between.

Looking forward to reading your reviews when I get back.

So In the Immortal Words of Atlas...

...Review, Would You Kindly?

And enjoy the previews!

(Previews!)

"Why do you fight for that rotten thing?"

"That "thing" is my Master. You will address her proper. Properly!"

"You reek of divinity."

"A rotten god is no god at all, Archer. Now scram before I cut you."

"Ho?" a sneer answered him. "You're surprisingly confident. Might that have something to do with your Master?!"

He barely blocked when that towering sword came for his head; even then he felt both blades begin to fracture from the act.

"Fine." That lone blue eye now blazed like a burning ruby in Saber's skull. "If you want to go back to the Grail that badly I'll oblige!"

"Stop! I'm your Master!"

Naruto exhaled slowly. "I have only ever had one Master since I was summoned. And you are clearly not her." as the boy shrank back from him, he drew his blade. "I tried to teach you. You did not listen." his tongue clicked in mild admonishment as the boy skittered back on all fours like a drunken spider. "You did not learn. I offered you sound advice. You rejected it. Worse, you tried to make me devour an innocent's soul! THEIR SOUL!" That ghastly voice shook the world like thunder and the blue-haired boy squealed like a struck pig, cowering. "HOW DARE YOU!"

"No, MASTER," Saber raised his sword, his voice dripping with vitriol, "I don't think I'll be feeling any guilt about this whatsoever. Such a shame that an enemy Servant got to you before I could save you. Sakura will be so upset. Such a tragic accident, truly. She will mourn you, I think." he advanced on the bloodied boy, hefting his blade with eerie grace. "But she will be a better person with you gone from this world. And in that, your death will serve some purpose. Take some meager satisfaction in that, if you will." Then he moved.

"Nonononono PLEASE-

"You're shit at dying, you know that?!"

With a roar, Saber brought the blade down on Shinji's head with all the force of an avalanche.

Saber was staring at her again.

"Are you...alright?" he asked softly.

Sakura stiffened. She suspected he had done something to Shinji, but this strange duality confounded her all the same. She'd been blacking out with frightful frequency of late, yet Saber had not spoken of it. He knew, didn't he?

R&R~! =D